seeing is believing
by envysparkler
Summary: Legend speaks of the cursed necklace of Ak-ihr, of the tainted opals, of certain death. Myth tells of its tragic victims, of countless royalty murdered, of its bloody tale. Reality shows us the key to the Hellgates.
1. prologue

**a/n:** i just thought i'd try a new genre [and that me and my friends were totally unsatisfied with the way ghost hunt ended.] 'i don't write happy endings', apparently. bah. i'll finish up this mai/naru, but, since my definition of 'happy' is screwed, it will be a bumpy ride. buckle up!

**disclaimer: **don't own ghost hunt. don't own oxford. do own my ocs.

**dedication:** to being high on insomnia.

* * *

_**prologue**_

* * *

_beauty is in the eye of the beholder_

* * *

_Drip. Groan. Howl._

The battlefield was littered with corpses, its dusty grass smeared with scarlet liquid and trampled by the feet of armies. It looked like a scene straight from Hell, each torn and mutilated body, each river and pool of blood, each stained sword and poisoned dagger, a macabre masterpiece of Death.

But then, Rhika had always been poetic, that way.

She walked through the sea of bodies, wading through the oceans of blood as if it was a petal-strewn lake. Death had always been her specialty. It was the one of the things _he_ had seen fit to grant her. A sadistic pleasure in killing and a deep hatred of trust.

She paused near a soldier who was not quite dead yet and knelt next to him, softly tracing the contours of his once-handsome face. The snow-blonde hair and soft skin were hidden underneath a coating of blood and gore but those beautiful green eyes – the same entrancing eyes she had fallen in love with five centuries and a half ago – shone in the half-light.

His eyes met her own, emerald clashing with ruby and she could clearly see the cutting sadness within him. Ultimately, it hadn't been the battle that killed him, he had died the moment the treaty was broken, the moment his love was destroyed, the moment betrayal stalked up behind him and stabbed its poisoned knife in his back.

"My Princess," the words escaped split lips, sounding harsh and guttural, cracking from the effort to spill the sentences out, "Are you happy now?" the soldier made a brave attempt to smile, and Rhika realized that he was half-mad from pain. It was true that the current royal family was descended from her, but this delusional man actually thought she _was_ the princess, his betrothed, a marriage alliance to end centuries of war.

Rhika had long surrendered the tedious duty of sitting on her throne to her sister, though being compared to her descendants was flattering.

"I asked you what you wanted me to do for you, _remember_, Princess?" the soldier's smile looked less like a smile and more like a glare, "I started a _war_ for you."

Rhika didn't hear him; too busy dipping a silver needle in winterweed paste. _He_ had long ago forbade her from bloodying her hands, from performing the actual _art_ of killing, but Rhika had easily found a loophole.

Curling the prince's fingers around the needle, she – making sure her fingers weren't touching the makeshift weapon – stabbed it into his heart, making the last sacrifice for the curse's activation. The venom quickly rushed to his hearts and stilled his heart.

A drop of blood fell.

Immediately, around her neck, the opal choker grew hot, the searing pain nearly pulling her into oblivion but Rhika hung on to consciousness, feeling the flames brand her skin, feeling the curse suck her lifeblood for its power.

Rhika swore, two hundred years ago, to take revenge for what _he_ had done, to repay _his_ crimson price, to curse _him_ to the depths of Hell. She would sell her soul to the Devil if she had to. She would bind her life to Death if need be.

She would sign her name in blood and carve it on _his_ heart.

The blood coloured the pure ovals, and darkened the shining silver. It tarnished the very symbol of purity and tainted its holy purpose.

Eons later, the untouched forests and undisturbed glens would be known as the mythical region of Ak-ihr. Millennia in the future, the opals would finally turn to cold, unforgiving onyx. The silver would darken to black iron. The Angelfeather key would grow more vindictive, more malicious, more spiteful until the only lock it would open would be –

The Hellgates.

* * *

_**tbc**_

* * *

**a/n:** i know you hate me, dear readers. but i WILL update this. /finds herself staring at pitchforks/


	2. paper weapons

**a/n:** see? i updated. and you didn't think i would do so. i know there are ocs in this, but bear with me. they are needed for the eventual mai/naru. also, the manga is kinda sketchy, so i'm going on my own version of what happened. notify me if my details are off.

**disclaimer:** ghost hunt? what is this ghost hunt of which you speak?

**dedication:** to stupid people who steal your heart without realizing it.

* * *

**chapter one**_** –**_

_**paper weapons**_

* * *

_fight fire with fire_

* * *

Pursed lips blew a lock of dark brown hair out of hazel eyes, where the hair fragmented her vision into a kaleidoscope view of the wooden slats on top of her.

Those who say that one cannot die of boredom had obviously not gone to college.

Sighing, the girl – woman, 18 was three months ago – swung her legs off the bed, sitting on the rim of the mattress. She was _Sophie Argent_, dammit! Queen of Popularity and Parties! She shouldn't be sulking around in her dorm room; she should be going out and mingling!

She flopped back on the bed. Mingling was too much work.

Groaning, she pulled up her long hair, half of which was plastered to the back of her neck with sweat, into a ponytail, fanning herself with the laminated sheet of rules and guidelines that came with the room.

Summers in London were sweltering and even though it was almost autumn, the heat wave had permeated the luxurious, picturesque campus of Oxford University.

Glaring at the air conditioner as if it would turn on just by look alone, Sophie twisted her body until she was lying down half on the bed, half in midair, pulling down the yellow tank top when it rode above the waistline of her jean shorts.

Oxford's setting in quaint, historic London – yeah, _right_ – was part of the reason she chose the university, along with the college's extensive research facilities and advanced psychology program. As she was coming to a big, unfamiliar city in a new country, Sophie had opted for dorm living, though it seemed like the three girls with who she would be sharing the room with had not yet arrived.

Shooting the AC an irritated glance, Sophie half-heartedly clapped her hands, hoping irrationally that Oxford had deemed it worthy to install Clappers in the rooms. No such luck.

Sophie reluctantly got off the bed and walked towards the AC, whose silver net seemed to blink at her innocently, as if daring to ask what it had done wrong.

Now she was awarding emotions to pieces of metal. The heat was affecting her brain as well.

She reached over and switched it on – instantly rewarded with a burst of cold air – when the door opened, a tentative head poking in.

"Um…"

Sophie turned around to look at the new arrival standing awkwardly in the doorway.

A nervous hand pushed up thin black wire-frame glasses and looked at Sophie with unsure dark brown eyes, the other hand tightly holding on to a small brown suitcase. Despite her timid approach, her appearance was cutting, jagged, and the smile she wore was like a sharpened razor. Sophie smiled back and held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Sophie Argent. You must be my new roommate!"

The girl grinned, and shook her hand, the awkward silence dissipating, "It's nice to meet you, Sophie. I'm Rukmini Patel." She self-consciously tucked a lock of long, straight black hair behind an ear and looked around the room, "Wow, this is big, isn't it?"

Sophie swiveled around and frowned. She hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary, having never lived in a dorm before, but she supposed it was bigger than normal. She turned back to Rukmini and shot her a crooked grin, "Well, maybe they realized they were housing the next Nobel Prize winner, and gave us the premium dorm."

Rukmini's response was to shoot her a raised eyebrow before muttering, "I hope we don't have to pay extra."

"You worry too much," Sophie informed her as she pulled a white top over her tank top, "Anyway, let me show you around!" Rukmini stuffed her suitcase under a bed, where Sophie's three bags had already gone, before sighing and following Sophie on her _'tour'_.

"Well, these are the beds," Sophie pointed to the bunk beds lining the right and left walls, "Mine's on the right, bottom bunk; where do you want to sleep?"

"The top's fine," Rukmini stared contemplatively at the beds, "But why are there four? Don't typical dorms have only two people?"

"Don't know, don't care," Sophie responded dismissively, "And the sheets aren't 600-thread-count, so don't worry," she added upon seeing Rukmini's calculating look.

"There are two nightstands in front, one of each pair of beds. Also, there's a fridge and a microwave," Sophie pointed out the amenities lining the back walls, "As you can see, there's a small table as well, with four chairs," she pointed to the table in the back of the room. After Rukmini pointed it out, she could clearly see that the room had large proportions. After the bunk beds ended, there was a small kitchen-like area, with a sink of its own, a small cupboard and the table. And taking into consideration the huge bathroom, this place was like a palatial mansion compared to regular universities.

Sophie walked back towards the front, and opened the two huge dressers on the front wall, pushed up into the corner, "My guess is that two people have to share these, so you can start putting your clothes in, just don't take up too much place." Closing them, she pointed to the various beanbags and puffs lying around, "Those are mine, I bought them after I realized we were in dire need of furniture, but you can use them as well, just don't spill stuff on it."

"Wow, this place had a kitchen in the back, a bedroom in the middle, and a living room in the front, while still managing to be only one dorm room," Rukmini looked over it appreciatively, "Impressive."

"And you haven't seen the bathroom yet," Sophie shot her a half-smile and darted to open the other door.

Rukmini entered, and was amazed by the large proportions. There were four sinks in total, two on each side, the porcelain sparkling. Each side also had a toilet and there was a shower and a tub at the back, both separate, with their own sliding doors for privacy. Except on the back wall, which had the shower and bathtub, and the front wall, which had two medicine cabinets, the rest of the room was in floor to ceiling length mirrors, which made it blindingly bright.

"Um, half the medicine cabinet is yours, if you want to unpack your toiletries and whatever," Sophie gave her a nervous smile before sweeping her wide array of painkillers, soaps, make-up and fragrances to one side, making space for her.

"Sure," Rukmini went back in the dorm room to start unpacking, "Seeing as college doesn't start till Monday, is there anything to do for the next two days?"

"Well, there's a party tonight," Sophie mused, thinking about it, "And I want to get some things from London, like food and stuff. Or we could get a tour of the campus by one of the seniors…"

"I wonder who our roommates are," Rukmini interrupted, picking up her folded clothes to put them in the dresser, "I heard that they might not even be freshman. They could be seniors, or even interns working at the research centers."

"I hope they're not seniors," Sophie made a face at the thought, "Speaking of which, what are you majoring in?"

"Psychology," Rukmini brought out a small bag containing a soap, shampoo, conditioner and a bottle of aspirin, before getting up and going towards the bathroom, "You?" Sophie could hear the clink of bottles and a muffled curse as Rukmini tried to arrange things so that her stuff had space.

"Same," she called back, "What courses are you taking?"

Before Rukmini could answer, there was a click of the lock before the front door opened and a girl walked in, with a duffel bag on one shoulder and dragging a suitcase behind her. She looked confident and self-assured, at least until she tripped on the edge of the mat and fell in a contorted position at Sophie's feet.

Sophie blinked. "The hell was that?" Rukmini yelled from the bathroom.

The girl groaned and muttered curses before pulling herself back into a standing position, mumbling something about jet lag and illegal laws.

"Hi?" Sophie said tentatively, still a little bit shocked, "Are you our roommate?" Rukmini had come out and was studying the girl with an appraising look, her raised eyebrows making her face twist into a haughty expression.

"Yeah," the girl smiled wide, too brightly for someone who had been on the floor a few seconds go, "I'm Isobel, sometimes Izzy, never Bella." She pushed a stray curl of her wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair out of her blue eyes and bent down to pick her bags up.

"Isobel what?" Rukmini asked with a tone of voice that clearly stated what she thought of the newcomer.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out!" Isobel said cheerfully before pushing her bags underneath the bed and claiming the top right bunk. Sophie saw Rukmini's eyes narrow and tried to hastily change the subject.

"So you're a Twilight anti-fan?"

Whoever had arranged the rooming in dorm number 666 was obviously straight from Hell.

* * *

"And he goes all like _'no, you're pregnant, I must kill your baby'_ and what is up with that? I understand that he has insecurities about being a father, hell, who _wouldn't_ have doubts about suicidal Edward Cullen becoming a role model for an easily impressionable baby girl, but seriously?" Isobel ranted, waving her hands to illustrate her point, "Trying to kill it is going a bit too far!"

Sophie nodded and smiled, inserting the standard _'yeah'_ and _'uh huh'_ and _'obviously'_ whenever Isobel paused for breath, but she could already tell this was going to be a long day. Rukmini had scampered off to her bunk – the traitor – as soon as Isobel started, and started reading a book. Sophie could _hear_ the snickers from the top as she was forced to endure Isobel's frenzied arguments of why Twilight should be cremated, her increasingly loud voice, the flailing hand gestures and – oh, dear god, was that a knife?

Slowly inching away from her psychotic roommate, she prayed to every deity she knew to come save her from this potentially violent situation. Luckily, someone heard her.

Isobel was interrupted, mid-rant as the door burst open, slamming against the wall with such force that Rukmini stuck her head down to see what had happened. Sophie ducked instinctively, inelegantly tumbling off the bed, the blade of the knife missing her by centimeters as Isobel brandished it in alarm.

A short, brown-haired, frantic-looking girl ran in, clutching a small backpack. She hurriedly closed the door before turning to them with a panicked expression. "Hide me!" she squeaked before diving under the bed.

They could hear echoing footsteps coming down the corridor, loud voices arguing in an incomprehensible language, the thundering noises increasing Sophie's hysteria and Isobel's panic.

The footsteps stopped outside the door, the furious voices become louder and louder.

Sophie straightened up; clutching the slim, metallic object she had – luckily – packed in her handbag. Isobel slid off the bed and stood behind her, the knife clutched in trembling fingers. Rukmini was poised at the top of the bunk bed, a pillow in her hands as both defense and attack.

The doorknob turned.

It clicked, and the door swung open, this time more softly and purposefully. A man strode inside, in a black trench coat that enhanced his dark hair and shadowed eyes, lending an aura of malice about the mysterious stranger.

Sophie screamed and pointed the pepper spray directly at him before pressing the nozzle.

The bottle went _'pfft'_; a pitifully small cloud of the deadly aerosol forming at the tip. Panicked, Sophie reflexively threw the bottle at the man's face. The bottle hit him on the side of his head and dropped to the floor, making a muted thud – the only noise to disturb the ominous silence.

The stranger didn't even flinch, his face blank, so still and silent that they couldn't decipher a single hint to his thoughts.

Rukmini decided to throw her pillow at the creepy person the minute Isobel – unfortunately – stepped forward; causing the soft, white mass of downy feathers to hit Isobel in the back of the head. The blonde whirled around, her blue eyes furious with betrayal, waving the knife and screaming, "Sneak attack!"

The man blinked – once, only _once_ – before choppily turning around – like a malfunctioning robot – opening the door and walking out. Just before the door creaked shut behind him, they could hear his strained voice – Isobel later said that it sounded like molten silk – muttering, "Wrong room."

* * *

"So, who was he?" Sophie asked the Japanese girl – Mai Taniyama – after they had gotten through the introductions.

Isobel was sitting sulkily on Mai's bed, running her fingers along her knife. Mai was in the process of unpacking her meagre belongings, Sophie impatiently bouncing on her bed and waiting for an answer. Rukmini, also on Sophie's bed, had still not stopped snickering.

Mai's cheerful smile dimmed a bit, "He used to be one of the most important people in my life."

"You dated him?" Isobel spoke up, taking a sudden interest in the conversation.

"What – no!" Mai turned beet-red, "What makes you think that?"

Isobel grinned at her but Sophie, taking pity on the flustered girl, asked, "Used to be? Why?"

"He lied to me," Mai said forlornly, a flash of pain crossing her face.

Rukmini smiled sadly, seeming to empathize with her, "People lie all the time. It couldn't have been _that_ bad."

Mai gave her a blank expression, "He didn't even tell me his real name."

There were gasps from the other girls and Sophie walked to her and slid and arm around her shoulders, comforting her while Rukmini and Isobel muttered reassuring words. The bonds of friendship and trust slowly tightened around them.

That wasn't to say they didn't have their doubts.

Isobel had listened carefully to Mai's words and wondered why the girl had hesitated. It was as if she was hiding something – something else, something bigger.

Rukmini had seen the desperate look on the man's face, the look of someone who had nothing left to live for, who had lost everyone and everything on a fool's search to gain something.

And Sophie closed her eyes and tried to remember where she had seen that stubborn jaw, those dark blue eyes, that silken hair. When she had last seen that sad, sad look on an aristocratic face, the expression of someone drowning – drowning with no one to save them.

* * *

"So, what's your major?" Isobel asked after all of Mai's belongings had been put away – Sophie and Rukmini having argued over the necessity of Sophie's numerous luggage – and their schedule fixed for the evening.

"Oh, I'm not a student," Mai smiled brightly, "I work as an analyst at Oxford's paranormal research labs."

"You work?" Sophie spluttered, choking on air, "I thought you were only eighteen!"

"I _am_ eighteen, but the university accepted me anyway," Mai gave a sly smile, "I had impeccable references."

"Paranormal research labs?" Isobel said curiously, missing the way Rukmini flinched at the words, "What do you do exactly; investigate the supernatural?"

"Sort of like that," Mai said, gesturing with her hands, "I investigate various phenomena and write their history, causes, whatnot so the exorcists will have an easy job getting rid of the spirits or curses. Also, I research various paranormal-related mythology to further our knowledge of what has always been a murky subject."

"That's cool," Isobel grinned.

Sophie nodded in affirmation, "Sounds exciting!"

"Sounds like bullshit."

All three of them turned to Rukmini with varying looks of shock on their faces. The Indian girl simply gave them all a glare, turning the light atmosphere tense and apprehensive.

"Excuse me?" Isobel raised her eyebrows at her blatant rudeness, "What are you talking about?"

"You heard me the first time," Rukmini's tone was vicious and cutting, "Chasing down ghosts and telling scary stories? What a pack of lies."

"That's mean," Sophie whispered, "Mai actually has the job, why are you insulting her?"

"I'm not insulting _her_," Rukmini's words were poisoned barbs, "I'm insulting every fool out there who believes in the monsters under his bed and the demons in his closet!"

Sophie just gaped at Rukmini's suddenly changed demeanor while Isobel stood up, shaking in fury, "Just what do you –"

"Stop, Isobel," Mai pulled a spoon out of her handbag, "Will you believe me if I show you?"

Rukmini didn't give an answer but Mai forged ahead, regardless. Concentrating on the spoon she was holding, she rubbed the junction of the head and tail of the spoon. Soon enough, the slim piece of metal twisted and bent.

Sophie clapped enthusiastically while Isobel stared in awe. Mai looked expectantly at Rukmini, a proud smile on her face.

Rukmini snorted, "You expect me to listen to you after a stupid parlor trick? What a joke." Silently fuming, she got up and shot them all dark looks, muttering, "I'll only believe in what I can _see_." Isobel and Sophie shot glares at the girl, formulating their own opinions of her volatile temper.

"I'm sorry, Rukmini," Mai surprised all of them with her apology, "I know there are people who don't accept my work as real, and I apologize for speaking without taking your feelings into account. I hope you'll forgive me."

Rukmini stared at the girl, clearly startled, but mumbled, "It's okay. I have nothing against _you_ as a person, but your job –"

"I won't speak of it again," Mai said solemnly, her eyes observing Rukmini with a sympathetic sadness.

* * *

"Explain to me again, exactly _how_ we got roped into coming into a party?" Rukmini muttered to Mai as they followed a hyper Sophie and a grinning Isobel.

"I honestly have no idea," Mai mumbled back, before warily eying her surroundings, "The last time I was at a party, I woke up in some girl's bed with no memory of what had happened." Rukmini shot her a curious look and Mai flushed, "A story for another day."

"You _are_ going to tell me," Rukmini gave her a mischievous smile, "Let's see, the last time I went to a party – I ended up at the hospital." It was Mai's turn to give the other girl a questioning glance but Rukmini waved it off, "We should follow those two idiots and intervene before someone gets hurt." Sophie was currently downing her third drink and Isobel had caught a guy by the arm and was jumping up and down in glee.

"Rukmini, Mai," Isobel said breathlessly as she tugged the guy towards them, "This is Tristan Sinclair!" The guy looked used to Isobel's antics, and had a somewhat-amused expression on his face. His dark hair and silver earring gave him a slightly dangerous look, and the delight glinting in his brown eyes was more than suspicious.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he took Mai's hand and kissed it, doing the same with Rukmini's; Rukmini's heart skipped a beat at the chivalrous gesture and the silken British accent that twisted his words.

"He's an old friend, I met him on a trip to Africa once," Isobel grinned, "Speaking of which, what are you doing here?"

"I live here," he raised an eyebrow; "You didn't think I was raised in the middle of the Sahara desert, did you? And what are you doing here?"

Isobel narrowed her eyes, "Considering what you did when I first met you, it _was_ a plausible idea. And I go to Oxford. First year, major in psychiatry."

"Well, well. Someone's gone up in the world," Tristan grinned, "And you two lovely ladies?"

Rukmini and Mai shot each other a wary glance.

"What do _you_ do?" Rukmini latched onto his arm and pouted, unconsciously pushing the others out of the conversation. Rukmini and Mai were only too happy at being deprived of the chance to answer, and were searching for Sophie when he replied.

"Didn't I tell you? I work for Espiar."

"Espiar? What's that?" Rukmini frowned, not noticing the way Mai froze at the words.

"The Society of Paranormal Research," Tristan replied smoothly, "I work there as a ghost hunter." Isobel froze and slowly turned to look at Rukmini, whose grip on her purse was growing white as fury lined her face.

Surprisingly, Mai beat her to the punch. "Espiar?" she spat out, all traces of cheer gone from her face, "That place is nothing but a lie!"

Tristan took a step back, "Excuse me?" Rukmini stood shell-shocked at the petite Japanese while Isobel had the instinctive feeling that she had screwed up, somehow.

"The work you do there is fake, the jobs you take are stolen," Mai ranted, her face flushed, "And you're led by a man whose twisted morals don't know the difference between right and wrong!"

"Well, if you –" Tristan's words were cut off as Isobel caught his wrist and tried to drag him away, her touch soothing his shaking frame. Mai shot him one last, hate-filled glare before weaving her way through the crowd, intent on leaving the party. Rukmini followed her, shooting a confused glance to Isobel on her way out.

Isobel sighed shakily before seeing the wrath on Tristan's face and tried to comfort him, "They have issues, Tristan. Rukmini hates the mention of ghosts, though," here she frowned, "I have no idea what set Mai off." She ignored the voice in the back of her head that whispered that the girl was hurt by wounds that stretched deeper than she thought, that – in a second – Mai had turned it _personal_.

Sophie finally showed up, so drunk that she was teetering on her heels, and caught sight of Tristan. Dumping her half-filled glass in Isobel's surprised hands, she sauntered up to Tristan and twined her arm with his, "Well hello, handsome. My name is Sophie…" her voice trailed off as she and Tristan disappeared into the crowd.

Isobel stared at the place where her roommate and her sorta-maybe-ish crush had vanished, then turned to where Mai and Rukmini had stormed off, having the sudden urge to laugh and cry at the sheer _simplicity_ of it all.

They were never going to get along.

* * *

_**tbc**_

* * *

**a/n:** what did i tell you? new chapter! woohoo! /dances/ also, just to clarify things, i've named their company 'Espiar' but i know its 'SPR'. The former sounds more… 'english'. and yes, i realize that's stereotypical and somewhat offensive but its my story. don't like, don't read.


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